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sinnamonrolle · 4 years

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[ the little moments ] ♡ Mammon

1 - That moment when Mammon made you ramen.

✿ part of a series now! ✿

❀ gender neutral reader ❀

[Mammon: im in the kitchen]

[Mammon: are u hungry?]

It was nearing 3 am when the buzzing of your D.D.D. brought you away from the complicated mess of Devildom history. Words were starting to blur, but after catching the white whisp of Mammon’s hair in his profile picture, you rubbed your eyes in an effort to read his messages.

[You: now that you’ve mentioned it, yeah]

Three dots briefly popped up before two more texts came your way.

[Mammon: okay!]

[Mammon: ill whip up my special cup ramen!!]

Before you knew it, you were smiling at the screen. Trust Mammon to brighten up your day. Although, you were a little concerned that he was still up at 3 AM, not that you had any right to speak because you were up as well. You had an inkling though.

[You: :o thank you mammon]

[You: youre too sweet]

He sent a smiling demon sticker, and you could almost hear the pride in his voice in his text.

[Mammon: ill bring it up in a bit, so just sit tight]

You looked back to your history textbook, a thick volume opened to a page on a minor riot the old royals had attempted. The only thing you could remember was that it didn’t end very successfully. Diavolo, with the help of his seven rulers, easily squashed the rebellion within two weeks. It had paragraphs more detailing the roles of each ruler and the list of punishment each rioter was subjected to.

While the history of the brothers intrigued you, it didn’t stick for very long in your exhausted mind. And the text was ridiculously tiny, straining your eyesight. There was no way you were going to get anything else done tonight.

You went back to your D.D.D., the screen blaring against the soft lighting of your room. Mammon’s profile picture grinned back at you, his eyes teasing, and his smirk playful. His orange sunglasses sat snuggly on his face, and with his fingers against his chin, he looked like a dork. He was your dork, though. Your handsome dork. You wouldn’t have him any other way.

Your eyes lingered on the last message he sent.

ill bring it up in a bit, so just sit tight

Your heart ached.

There was no warning, no prelude, just the sudden throb of something warm through your chest, reverberating in all the empty places just right. Your heart hurt, and you felt the pangs crawl through the rest of your body. Goosebumps broke your skin, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

You clutched your phone, closing your eyes to steady yourself. Your heart ached again, rippling outwards, but this time, you knew why.

It was love, for Pete’s sake, it was love and adoration and gratefulness. It was all of those feelings and more, so much more that your body could only hurt in the aftershocks of your love, and before you knew it, there was a familiar stinging in your nose and a tightness in your throat.

[You: its okay im coming down]

The hallway was colder than your room. The lights left a trail to the kitchen and you wished you were there when Mammon woke up, so that the first thing he saw wouldn’t have to be the dark. You wished you could hold his hand, so that you could tell him you’ll always be there with him. You wished you could hug him, so that he could feel every inch of love from you.

Your eyes were blurring now, but for entirely different reasons. But your tears didn’t stop you from fumbling down the stairs, missing more steps than you ever had the courage to skip. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see the glinting eyes of the little demons that roamed the shadows. One yellow demon, horns curved in the same shape as Mammon, you noted, flickered into the light when you almost tripped over your feet.

“I thought I told you to sit tight.” Mammon caught you as you stumbled to the bottom of the staircase, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders to steady you. There was a slight pout to his lips. “The ramen isn’t ready yet. I was gonna bring it up to ya.”

You looked at him. It was one of those rare moments where he decided to forgo his sunglasses, leaving his face bare to the world—leaving himself vulnerable to the world.

This time, there were no tinted lenses to hide the dark circles lining his eyes, heavy and telling of the many nights he spent without sleep as nightmares haunted his dreams. But his eyes—his eyes were beautiful. They reminded you of the dawn sky, the cool blue melting into the warm rays of the sun. They were still so bright despite having seen so much, and you wanted to cry, to tell him how beautiful he was. The youthfulness of his face was a lie. His face, flawless in its features and unbelieveably smooth, does not tell of the scars littered across his body. He was wonderful, and so so brave.

“H-hey, why ya cryin’?” His perfect brows furrowed, and his hands hesitated beside your face before wiping away your tears, his thumb rough and calloused. “Do you not like ramen? Is that it? You just had to tell me, ya know—”

“That’s not it,” you said, fighting the tense ball in your throat. There was so much you wanted to say, so much that you needed to say, but you didn’t even know how to put it in words. You just had to say something, anything to him, so that he knew. “I just, I came down because I want—there’s something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?” Mammon brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand was as soft as his voice.

You brushed away the hair that fell in front of his eyes, gently, like you were afraid anything rougher would break him. You wanted to say that you thought he was the bravest out of all of his brothers, that he fought a war thousands of years ago and he was still fighting another war, but this time in his mind, that he deserved so much more love and affection than you could ever give him, that he should take a break one day from being his brothers’ anchor, that he didn’t have to be afraid to love someone else again, that being vulnerable wasn’t a bad thing, that you loved each and every side of him as a demon, as a fallen angel, as a being, that you wanted to protect him from all the hard things in life for as long as you live, that you wanted him to see how amazing he was like how you saw him, that you enjoyed his company and how he always brought a smile to your face, that you loved when he acted like a dork, that you appreciated his thoughtfulness and how he brought you ramen at 3 am, that you wanted him to be happy, happier and happier, for the rest of eternity.

But you didn’t. You didn’t, or maybe you couldn’t, so you gave him the biggest smile you could make, dripping with your love, and told him, promised him, reminded him,

“I love you so much, Mammon.”

Words weren’t enough. But they’ll have to be, for now.

-------

Masterlist!

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k-renne · 5 years

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SENSELESS

SUMMARY: It was torture, the way you smelled. You had no idea how much he wanted you, the sweet little omega who was so clueless to what you did to him it was maddening. At this rate it wouldn’t be long before he breaks

A/N: In which alpha!Clyde screws you senseless, warning slight dubcon (i’m not really sure but just in case), dom clyde/sub reader - everything under the cut

TAGS: @thecurlycaptain

Ignoring his needs was getting harder everyday, when you graced his bar with your sweet scent and pretty smile it all just called his name to fuck you and make you his. To forget reason and follow his primal instincts. Oh how he dreamed of sinking his teeth into your pretty little neck, let every alpha know that you were his. It was unbearable.

Clyde was good at concealing his desire for you, creating a safe haven for you at his bar not to be bothered by alphas (except for him of course). It was nice for you, a lot of the men in this area would be gross with you. The stereotypes about your nature always brought so many assumptions, but fuck if you just wanted to go out without being hassled for once. You were enough of a regular that everyone knew not to bother you at Duck Tape, that you wouldn’t accept drinks from everyone except the bartender.

It didn’t help that the bartender was a sight to look at, Clyde was a powerhouse behind the bar. Just the broadness of his shoulders and chest, he exuded alpha strength like it was a wet dream.

Your staring didn’t help Clyde, neither did the sweet little smiles you gave him. If only you just asked him, he’d give it to you. He was waiting for his chance really, didn’t wanna come on too strong and scare you away like most alphas did. But fuck he wished you tried to conceal your scent just a little bit more, you probably had no idea the effect it had. He could smell the days you were aroused, scent so thick it made it hard to breathe. He thanked every higher power that he could conceal his crotch behind the bar, lest you see that he was half hard.

His brother teased him on his little crush on one of his regulars, but Clyde’s growl when Jimmy sat next to you showed him that maybe it was a little bit more than a crush if Clyde was getting that protective of you. “I guess he’s in a bad mood?” You shrugged to Jimmy, his eyes widened at your cluelessness.

You enjoyed seeing Clyde, he was a bonus to this bar, but a part of your brain never clicked the whole alpha omega thing together. That maybe his treatment of you was more than just politeness, more than just a respectable alpha.

Clyde enjoyed jerking off during his breaks in the back office, silently challenging you to say something when he came back smelling like sex. You always squirmed a little more after that, and it made him grin. Sometimes he just had to take care of himself.

“Listen sweetheart, I gotta ask why ya haven’t been claimed yet.” Clyde shook his head at you, if he had the chance he’d just snatch you up.

“Oh um I don’t know-I’ve just never well, I’ve only been with betas.” You confess.

Clyde huffs, “Ya mean to tell me, you’ve never-not even during your heat?” He lowers his voice, leaning over the bar counter. His mind was on a roll with the implications, that you’ve never felt the stretch of a knot.

You gulped, his questions were making you feel hot all over. “N-no but I’m sure its not much different.” You lied. You knew what it could be like, you heard from other omegas, you saw it in porn but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. You liked being subversive to your nature, and to some extent it was simpler that way.

Clyde let out a gruff sound, shaking his head. You frowned, it felt like he was disappointed in you. “S’nothing wrong with bein’ with an alpha, I-he would take good care of ya. S’like we’re made to make ya feel good, wouldn’t ever hurt ya.”

You had to cross your legs, to you being with an alpha was like a taboo-a dark desire that you tried to suppress. But you couldn’t seem to deny anymore that given the option, you’d let Clyde have you in any way he wanted to. And maybe that was why you kept coming to his bar.

“Maybe not you Clyde,” You replied to him softly. You trusted him not to hurt you, but not everyone.

He gave you a sweet little smile at that, taking in a deep breath of the spike in arousal in your scent. It was so heady he was getting hard, you were being nice still but it was frustrating. You were clearly fighting with your nature, and you were missing out on so much pleasure. Worse you didn’t know how much you were teasing him.

Later Clyde was mad, you were being kind to Earl as you talked to him on your way out- another alpha, and Clyde knew you didn’t see him like that but still...it was irking him. It was getting harder and harder to see you show off your pretty neck free of any claim, and watch all the other alphas at the bar just fawn over you.

“Earl, I know you didn’t mean to, but ya know how I feel about her.” Clyde sighed.

“I know Clyde, she came up to me. Poor girl has no idea what she’s doing to you. I think she’s just tryin’ to be nice.”

Clyde let out a frustrated groan, “She’s gonna drive me crazy one of these days.”

Earl raised a brow, normally his friend could handle himself a little better. “How long has it been for you? Is it gettin’ to that time...”

Clyde frowned, thinking back to his last rut. “Shit,” He cursed. That explained things, why he was acting more possessive and much less reasonable. Almost letting it slip out how good of an alpha he could be to you.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t come in if starts to happen, just let me know Clyde.”

He nodded, that would have to do it. He couldn’t have you in the bar on the cusp of his rut, you’d surely bring him to the brink.

A few days later Clyde could feel it, the rush of hormones made him hot all over, he felt more aggressive, and the overwhelming desire to fuck an omega deep in his core. He’d have to close the bar early tonight for a few days at least, luckily it wasn’t the weekend.

It was quiet tonight, the bar was pretty much empty besides for Earl sitting outside.

“Hey Earl, thought I’d stop by and pop in after my shift.”

“Miss, I don’t know if you wanna go in there. Clyde’s about to have his rut, he says he doesn’t want you here. It’ll only mess with him.” Earl stood up, blocking the door.

“Well-” You felt your cheeks get hot. “That’s the thing I sorta needed to talk to him about something.” It was embarrassing. You couldn’t tell Earl what you were gonna ask Clyde to do to you.

“And I’m sure it can wait.” He crossed his arms.

You knew it was probably going to end in one way if you went into Duck Tape tonight, but maybe that’s just what you wanted. “No Earl, it can’t. I’ll be just fine, don’t you worry about me.” You began to push past him.

Earl had the inkling that you knew just what you were doing, so he let you past. It was time for him to leave before the inevitable happened.

His scent hit you like a huge wave, almost had your knees buckling. You had never experienced this before, been around an alpha in his rut. Clyde reeked of dominance, of sex, and it was making you wet. Clyde stared at you from across the bar, chest heaving. If you came over to him, that was it. He was going to have you or he’d have to lock himself out back. Your sweet scent was accelerating his rut, and he growled.

“Sweetheart ya must be a fool to come in here when I’m like this, only askin’ for trouble.” Clyde’s voice was low, warning you. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bar, his jaw clenching as you sauntered on over to him. He shut his eyes trying to quiet the voices screaming in his mind, fuck her, make her yours, fill her sweet pussy with pups.

He couldn’t pretend anymore.

Clyde was on you in an instant, backing you up into the nearest corner as he pressed his nose against your neck, running it along your skin. “C-Clyde,” You whimpered. His body was so strong and hot against yours, pressing himself firmly against you made your knees feel weak.

Clyde greedily sucked on the skin of your neck, he wanted to make sure you smelled like him-and fuck you tasted so sweet. His kisses were sloppy as his hand gripped your hip, pressing his hard cock against you. “Feel this sweetheart? This is what ya do to me, sweet little omega ya have no idea how fucking hard I get for you.”

You could feel it, he was so big. The thought of your polite alpha bartender having a big cock, big to match the rest of him, sent you arousal straight to your core.

Clyde grinned, “Mmm I can smell your sweet pussy darlin’, smell how fuckin’ wet it’s gettin’.” He slipped his hand between your thighs to cup your pussy, his big paw of a hand rough and hot, stronger than your hands ever could be.

You looked away, feeling embarrassed. You felt such a strong urge to submit, just let Clyde take complete control, show you what he’s been holding back.

Clyde tsked, “Ain’t having none of that sweetheart, now you look at me.” He tilted your face to look at him, touch surprisingly gentle.

You panted as you looked at him, his big brown eyes swallowing you whole. Clyde stroked the side of your face sweetly, thumbing your quivering bottom lip. Even in his rut, he was still sweet with you. “I always take good care of what’s mine.” He assured you, before sliding his tongue in your mouth. His kiss was rough and filthy, made you grab on to him for support because it had you feeling boneless.

Clyde picked you up in his still strong arms and bent you over the corner of the bar counter so your ass was hanging over the edge. “Can’t wait no more,” He growled, and you felt him tugging off your pants. You helped him get them off by lifting your hips, your cheek pressing against the cool surface of the bar.

You were buzzing with arousal, gasping as you were completely exposed to Clyde. Your pussy drooled and Clyde ducked down to catch your sweet wetness in his mouth, his lips meeting your soaking pussy. He moaned in praise of your taste, his beard scratching at your thighs. This sweet fucking pussy is mine!

You couldn’t help but spread your thighs apart for him, Clyde rewarding you by shoving two fingers into your entrance and curling them against your walls. “Fuck you’re so wet sweetheart, ya taste so good, could spend the whole day eatin’ you. But tonight I need-” His chest heaved as he caught his breath. “-Need to fuck this tight little pussy, and I can’t wait no more.” He growled.

You heard Clyde’s pants hit the floor, pulling out his meaty cock to take his fill of you. He teased you enough to make you moan for him, sliding the hot head of his cock against your clit. But soon he was spearing into you, splitting you open with the delicious size of him. Your walls stretched to accommodate him, Clyde’s thumb rubbing your clit to help you along. He didn’t stop till he was fully seated, panting at your tightness. Even now you could feel yourself gushing around him, his scent alighting your senses and the feeling of fullness making you gasp.

Clyde grunted as he began thrusting, using all of his strength as he slammed his hips into yours. You could barely breath, he was fucking you senseless. “Take it sweetheart-take it you’re mine.” Clyde growled. Seeing your pussy swallow his cock, how slick you were getting around him, only spurred him on more.

“Gonna creampie this sweet pussy, fill it with my pups.” Clyde smacked your ass.

“Mmm please!” You whined submissively, the way Clyde was manhandling and fucking you was bringing out your darkest desires. You wanted it, you wanted him to fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk, that he’d have to carry you as his cum dripped down your thighs.

“S’right baby, you’re mine. An every fuckin’ alpha in this bar is gonna know it, know I claimed ya right here on my bar-my omega.” You could only moan at his words.

As he rammed his cock inside your pussy you could feel your orgasm coming, and Clyde could sense it with your walls clenching around him. “Ya gonna come sweetheart? Cum right on my big cock?” He teased you as he rubbed your clit, bringing you over the edge as you cried out his name.

He kept rubbing, rubbing until you were oversensitive and making you cum all over again. Seeing you cum at his hands made Clyde’s knot begin to swell inside you, your walls milking his cock. “Gonna cum in this sweet pussy-mmph,” Clyde grunted as he spilled his load inside of you, hot cum locked inside with his thick knot. You came a second time, making more cum spurt inside you, fill you up.

Clyde’s hand soothingly rubbed the small of your back, pushing back your hair to expose your neck to him. You could feel his teeth against your neck, so close and he could just mark your, truly make you his. You knew he was holding back as you felt his hot breath against your skin. But you didn’t want him to, “Do it,” You said softly.

Clyde snarled as he claimed you as his, his mouth coming down hard on your neck. A wave of pleasure hit you and you felt completely full of him, “Yours,” You sighed happily.

Clyde was doing his best to try and snuggle you right there on the bar counter, his warm body protectively pressing against you as cum began to leak down your thighs with his loosening knot. He nuzzled against his mark affectionately, kissing and licking at it. “I’m takin’ ya home sweetheart, our home.”

#clyde logan x reader #clyde logan #abo #filth

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docgorpywrites · 5 years

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God had Flowers in His Hair

They lay, the pair of them, in a small patch of wildflowers far away from the doctor's mansion, across the creek on a rowboat and up a hill behind a smattering of trees and a large boulder. As far away from prying eyes as they could muster.

Merriell was lazily picking the petals off a flower, the stems of those he had finished with lay on his exposed stomach. His shirt was open and on his chest formed beads of sweat. It was a hot summer afternoon in the middle of July. A cigarette hung limply from his mouth, the ash was getting long, almost threatening to drop down onto him and burn his skin. He continued his work.

Eugene lay beside him, puffing on his pipe. His mouth was full of smoke as he warned Merriell about the blister he could get if he didn't flick the ash off his cigarette properly. Merriell, being very much himself, ignored him. Eugene took it upon himself to remove the cigarette from his mouth and stub it against the boulder.

"Light me anotha, will ya, Sledge," was all Merriell murmured back.

Eugene scoffed, but obeyed all the same, he took a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. He didn't even know why he still had them on him when he already had his pipe, but looking towards the man on his left, he remembered. He took one in his mouth and lit it. He brought the lit smoke to Merriell's own mouth and the man hummed in appreciation.

"What'cha doin' anyway?" Eugene finally asked.

"Countin' Japs," was the curt reply. Eugene raised a brow, looking Merriell square in the face, to which he just laughed. "I'm kiddin', don't worry ya pretty lil' head none, boo."

"If you say so." Eugene knew better than to probe him any further. Sometimes Merriell did things for no reason at all.

He got off his elbows and sunk back into the wildflowers. The sun burned his eyes so he shut them, his shirt stuck to his chest so he opened it up. The relief it brought made him comfortable enough to fall asleep.

He was woken up, minutes later, by a heavy load on his stomach. He almost threw whatever it was that was on top of him into the boulder behind him in defense. His eyes adjusted, thankfully, before he could even get a strong enough grip on Merriell's shirt. Eugene squinted up at him, rays of the sun streamed past him through his hair and the thin material of his shirt.

"The fuck's a'matter with you, Snaf? Tryin' to give me a heart attack?"

Merriell reached wordlessly with both hands into his pockets and let loose a flurry of flower petals down onto Eugene's wild-eyed face. Eugene's gaze softened at this, but his confusion still stitched his brow up into furrows. A petal landed on his lips and Merriell leaned down to blow it away, with his breath came out the smoke from his cigarette. A kiss was planted firmly onto his lips. Eugene felt his blood rush to his ears, his hold on Merriell's shirt tightened. Merriell lifted himself off of Eugene, breaking the kiss abruptly.

"You sure know how to rile me up, don'tcha?" Eugene laughed up at him.

Merriell stared into his eyes, not smiling back, not bothering to close his mouth either, huffing. "Sorry, just checkin'."

Eugene's smile faded, "For what?"

"Checkin' to see if you're the real thing, is all."

Eugene collided up into him and switched their positions, now he was the one on top, his legs to the side and his arms resting on the grass at either side of Merriell's shoulders. Flower petals swirled around them, some of them still stuck in Eugene's hair. "'Course I'm real, the hell you on about?"

"How can I even begin to believe that, what with ya sittin' there all pretty lookin' with flowers in your hair." Merriell finally laughed, gazing up at Eugene like he was some kind of god. Maybe he was.

It had taken Merriell half of spring to find a Eugene Sledge in Mobile, Alabama. He had set out one April morning, once he had gathered enough money for the train fare. Being a war veteran did little for him by way of financial supplementation. He had regretted leaving Eugene on the train home the moment he woke up, barely the next day, and Eugene wasn't there to comfort him while he suffered from a particularly excruciating bout of the shakes. He sat there, shell shocked, as copious amounts of sweat dripped down from his brow. His bed was wet with sweat and tears, and everytime he tried to close his eyes, he was in hell again. That was it, he looked for a job that same day and didn't stop working until he had enough money for a trip to Mobile.

Merriell found Eugene at the end of May, showing up at the Sledge Household right before Memorial day. Eugene had answered the door with dirty hands and equally dirty denim overalls. He was wiping his face off with a lace handkerchief, laughing, "I'll get it, ma!" He had yelled into the foyer.

They both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, until Merriell broke the silence.

"Sledgehamma."

"Snaf—" Eugene's voice cracked and he took a second to clear his throat, "—what brings you?" He finally managed.

"Sleep." Merriell answered honestly. "Haven't been gettin' any since."

Eugene looked fixedly at him before confessing, "Me neither."

Merriell hadn't left since. The good doctor and

Missus Sledge were kind enough to put him up in the best guest room in the house. 'Anything for a war veteran and a good friend o' Gene's.' But the guest room was barely used. They spent the summer sneaking around at night so they could sleep in one bed, it was the only way they could get a good night's sleep. This arrangement brought to light several unanswered questions that had arose during their run in the war, and after, for that matter, when they served together in China. There was always something between them, but the brutality of war and the general stigma around such a relationship between two men—two Marines at that, left little for those questions to be answered. Now, they had all the time in the world, and nobody to judge them but themselves.

When Merriell settled down from his laughter, Eugene leaned in for another kiss. He was blushing by the time he pulled away, just one thought ricocheting around in his head.

"Marry me." It had slipped out of Eugene's mouth like butter on a hot pan, but he wasn't ashamed.

Merriell simply looked up at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips, the corners of his shocked open mouth twitching up. There was happiness along with reluctance in the way Merriell stared at him, not really knowing what to say. Eugene was red from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest, and was searching Merriell's eyes for an answer.

"O'course," he finally got out, "but how? Ain't no pastor or preacher a thousand miles from here gonna marry us. Especially not in the South."

Eugene couldn't help but kiss him again, more deeply and more fervently this time, nearly crushing his face between his hands. Merriell hung on for dear life, tangling his tan fingers up in Eugene's copper hair. They parted, and Eugene smiled down fondly at him, brushing a flower petal stuck to Merriell's forehead away.

"Oh, we'll find a way. We always do."

They got married one cold autumn morning, a week before Eugene's birthday. He regarded it as the best birthday present he'd ever gotten, since Deacon anyway. Eugene knew a former soldier up in Washington County who had become a preacher man. He had fought in the war with Edward Sledge Jr. and was more than willing to officiate the wedding. It was not legal in any sense of the word, but the papers they signed and the small, beautiful ceremony (with Dr. and Mrs. Sledge, Edward, and Sidney Phillips in attendance), made it real enough for the both of them.

The attendance of Eugene's folks was not achieved without screaming and crying and maybe a bit of roughing up, however. When Eugene told his parents, he put his mother first, to break the ice. Lord, how she cried. But she admitted nonetheless that she had had an inkling about his preferences as she watched him growing up. Eugene held her in his arms after she finally gave them her tight-lipped blessing. If her son was happy, she would be happy.

His father was another story. Doctor Sledge was not a violent man by any means, he had never lifted a hand on Eugene in all his twenty-two years, except on that day when his son had told him that he was going to marry a man. Eugene had earned himself a heavy slap to the cheek, which surprised him. Not because of the pain or the fact that his father had hit him, but because he had expected more. It might have been the fact that he had spent the previous years being thrown around violently across numerous battlefields, by explosions booming left and right. Regardless, Eugene didn't retaliate, he merely touched the back of his fist to his stinging cheek and apologized to his father. The good doctor had gripped the edge of his desk, white-knuckled and red-faced, breathing through his nose and restraining himself.

"Father," Eugene had pleaded with him. "I love him."

His father bristled at his words, but then relaxed after a few moments of bated breath for Eugene. Doctor Sledge turned to face his son, and finally offered his hand to him, much in the same way Eugene had offered his own when his father finally allowed him to go to war. Eugene saw tears in his father's eyes, took his extended hand and pulled his father in for a loving embrace, the first since he was a boy. His father had whispered over Eugene's shoulder that he was proud of the man he had become, and that he deserved to be happy, however and with whomever he pleased.

Edward and Sidney couldn't care less, and were just happy for him. But of course, their general acceptance and congratulations did not come without the standard issue, run-of-the-mill teasing that came with being military servicemen. Edward had quipped, "I'm fine with it as long as you lemme be your maid of honor."

Not one to be outdone, Sid had contributed, "I for one, would like to be one o' them pretty little flower girls."

As happy as Eugene was with how generally well-received his news had been, Merriell was not as lucky. Letters he had sent home to Louisiana about the announcement (not without much coaxing from Eugene and his mother), had gone unreplied, not even an angry letter back, which Merriell had first anticipated. In the end, with a tone of surprise from everybody who was there to witness it, Doctor Sledge had stood up from his place on the large armchair in the living room, poured three glasses of the finest scotch he owned, passed them around, and said to Merriell, "I'll give you away, son."

The two young men, hardened from war, stood there, reduced to a sobbing mess, embracing each other, embracing Eugene's father, to which the old man just chuckled jovially at. Merriell was so bold as to even plant the tiniest bud of a kiss on Doctor Sledge's cheek, which was received by Doctor Sledge with a reddening of his face. The tips of his ears had flared up, and Merriell suddenly knew where Eugene inherited his easily flushed complexion.

The day finally came, Merriell was all gussied up in his dress blues, Eugene had donned a simple but handsome suit, making good on his promise to himself not to wear a uniform ever again. Merriell had put flowers in Eugene's hair, just like the day he proposed. Everything was good and beautiful and wonderful and finally right in the world, and Merriell would never lose sleep again.

#sledgefu #eugene sledge #snafu shelton #merriell shelton #sledge x snafu #the pacific fanfiction #the pacific #hbowar #docgorpywrites

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peaches-of-1 · 6 years

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Adrift- Chapter 2:

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Last time: A plain looking plus sized woman comes aboard the ship that had been docked for weeks. She’s the captain’s newest toy and she tells him about Bangtan Island where riches await and girl do to. The ship’s poet, Hoseok, is excited for his heart longs to the sea. However, his heart longs for the captain’s girl as they spend time together. A storm occurs, and they blame the woman. He doesn’t want her to go, but even as she asks him to come with her he can’t join her. She’s not human. Then what is she?

Sailor Hoseok was put into the brig, but he still wrote when there was enough light and the ocean was steady. He had never felt so homesick in his life. Usually, the sea was his home, but now it felt like hell. He missed his mom a lot and even wrote about her.

My mom’s voice That I hear is clear What I remember is My mom’s strength back then was my curve ball For real I was determined to be successful With that one promise I became the son I am now

Hey mama I’m sorry mama For realizing now how much you’ve done for me, mama

Hey mama So thanks mama For being my blood and flesh, mama

The captain returned today, trying to ask him questions he didn’t know the answer to.

“What did you and the sea hag talk about when she was away from me?”

“Nothing but my poems. She was interested in them, and so I showed them to her.”

He faked his kindness, “I’m yer friend here, Hoseok. Tell me what kinds a poems were dey? Were dey love poems?”

Hoseok was honest, “Yes, but no woman ever graced my pages. My one and only love has been the ocean. The sea in all her shimmering beauty could never compare to--”

“Enough with that malarkey! Why did she ask you of all the men on my ship to come with her? What as this second chance she was talking about?”

“I don’t know, captain! That’s the first time I ever heard her ask me such a question. I swear to you!”

Captain Eumgyeong knocked over his stool in anger, “Fine! You don’t wanna tell me the truth! Stay in ‘ere then! Waste of my time!” He walked away and back to the surface, taking his lantern with him.

Before (Y/N), every poem he wrote that any inkling of true love was about the sea. Her waves. Her hidden treasures. Nothing else could compare until it swallowed his goddess whole. She was so different that the usual women who managed to seduce and steal from the captain and disappear the next morning with a new treasure of her own and probably some tropical disease.

Jimin came down a few minutes later, “Are you ok?”

“I’m as good as can be. How long did the captain say I’m stuck down here for, or is it just when he’s done being mad?”

“When we reach land again, you have to do some convinvin’ if you wanna stay. You’ll be free, but he’s pretty mad. Even Sailor Yoongi got some crap for persuadin’ Cap to let her come along.” Jimin laughed. “He threw it back in the captain’s face, and I was sure he was gonna challenge Yoongi to a duel.”

Hoseok begged Jimin for the details. Apparently, it was only a few hours after he had been put down here. Jimin was dancing as he usually did to cheer up the remaining shipmates, and the captain had been muttering under his breath. Yoongi heard his name and told the captain to speak up. Captain Eumgyeong yelled and said that it was Yoongi’s fault they had lost their sailors because he tricked him.

Yoongi had replied, “You’re the captain. You have the final word, don’t you? I’m just a sailor. I’m under your rule. You have no one to blame but yourself, Captain Eumg-yeong.”

Hobi laughed. Of course he would’ve said that. After giving Hoseok some food and water, Jimin went back up before he got in trouble. The black-haired lonely sailor soon fell asleep after eating the stale bread. He dreamt about (Y/N), but in a form he had never seen before with his own eyes.

It started with her on the plank in the storm. He decided to go with her. Hoseok didn’t even like his captain, so he had not much to lose other than two friends. And he loved her, why not go? They hold hands and jump together, feet first into that greedy waves. As they are both submerged in water, he had trouble breathing. Was it because of the cold or the sight before him?

(Y/N) began to change and transform. Her top was the same but seemed like it was embedded with the sun. As his eyes went down her frame, her legs got more slender, and soon enough, they weren’t even legs at all. It was a fish tail made up of the most glorious greens and blues. Hints of purple here and there making sure the viewer knew this was nothing short of magic.

He began to choke, but she kissed him. When their lips met, he was able to breathe as if he were on land.

“I promised you that you’d be safe, Hobi.”

Then she swam while holding his hand. A rough ocean bump woke Hoseok and he wrote. He wrote about a women, a human or whatever woman for the first time in his life. He didn’t need freedom. He just wanted her, wanted her to be ok. Even as he wrote, he wanted her to read his things. He craved her support..and more paper. He threw all his poems about her and for her out the small porthole in the chance his dream was real and she would be able to somehow read them.

But you’re my everything (You’re my) Everything (You’re my) Everything (You’re my) Please go away huh

I’m sorry (I hate u) I love you (I hate u) Forgive me

I need you girl Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone I need you girl Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt?

I need you girl, you’re beautiful I need you girl, you’re so cold I need you girl (I need you girl) I need you girl (I need you girl)

The walls became his canvas when he was out of paper. It wasn’t until Yoongi unlocked the bars that he finally woke up.

“You gonna come out, or are you gonna stay in there? And it better be the latter ‘cuz Cap wants ta talk ta ya before we’re allowed to go on land.”

Hoseok got out and knew he smelled horribly. It didn’t matter. He walked out and was saddened by the lack of mates that were left. The breath that filled his lungs was more air than seawater, and it felt like he hadn’t had oxygen in forever.

“Get yer arse over here, Hoseok!”

“Yes, Captain.” He jogged to a place around the man.

But it was the same as always. They were allowed to go on land for however long. The main job was to recruit more sailors to join them on voyages. They had to make sure they were skilled and had sailed before.

“No more en’tainers. We’s enough of them already.” His eyes stared glassy daggers at Hoseok and Jimin. “Also, I’m goin’ ta see if that sea hag was tellin’ the truth about Bangtan Island. If it’s as popular as she says, someone round her must know ‘bout it. Dismissed...men.”

Before the storm, there were about 35 men on the ship. Now, it was just Yoongi, Jimin, six of the jerks, Cannonball Bang, and Hoseok. Ten. Only ten were left after the horrible storm. They weren’t great people, but they were decent sailors. Family, nonetheless.

Captain Eumgyeong went to the nearest tavern and asked for their biggest pint of whatever, and most of the other men did the same. He put down a bag of golden coins to let her know it’d be covered. The barmaid was fine with it. He looked around and saw a lot of brown eyes surrounded by brown skin and braids and curls. Freckles on some. Others were obviously mixed children. Others skin as pale as the moon with eyes sharp as rocks. Sunken eyes. Blues. Greens. Mixes and matches of all sorts.

All in all, it was diversity heaven. He knew he’d get some answers. His first question was to the barmaid who had her orange curls held in several braids that sprouted every which way.

“Miss, have you heard of a place called Bangtan Island.”

She grinned and her eyes glittered, “Of course. It’s not too far off. Many of the people here were born and bred on that very island. That’s how we bought this land for ourselves, our ancestors anyhow. It seems to be where all the riches from sunken ships go ta’ if you ask me.”

“So it’s real?” One of the jerks asked.

“As real as you need it to be. Only those with pure souls make it past the barrier, though. Steep jagged rocks home to the island’s protectors.” The woman handed a young man in a straw hat his drink. “Many are afraid to go after hearing about it.”

“I ain’t.” Captain Eumgyeong replied. “My remaining men aren’t afraid, and if they are, they can piss off.”

The Barmaid asked what he was talking about, and he shared his sad story about the woman and the sea. How he was lied to and maybe betrayed by one of his men. He looked around.

“Where is that raven now? He’s got black hair and talks a lot. Writes a lot too.”

Hoseok was in the tavern with his back to the captain, his head lost in thought, silent as a tomb. Inside his mind, he wondered if he had gone crazy down there in the ship’s prison. He had never written that much in such a short period ever, and never about a human unless the captain or someone asked. And why would he have thrown them out the window?

Crazy. Absolutely nuts.

But did she get them? He wondered, head in his hand. The other was firmly gripped on a mug of something yellow. Yoongi and Jimin came to sit next to him with drinks of their own. They pat his back.

“Glad you’re back above sea level, dude. Why did she even ask you to come with her in the first place.” Yoongi asked.

“It should’ve been me.” Jimin pouted and laughed, trying to bring up the mood.

Hobi shook his head, “I have no idea. I don’t know why she asked me.”

He looked back to see the Captain being surrounded by girls as they sung to him. The local performers. They seemed incredibly pretty as they were in corsets that thinned their waists and made their hips the focus of their body along with their blossoming bosoms. They sang about Bangtan Island and the hope and riches it brought. Captain was paying so much attention to them that he looked like he was in a trance.

Yoongi took a sip, “Have you written anything while down there? Anythin’ we can look forward to?”

“Well, I did write, but they all flew out of the window while I was asleep. There was nothing to keep them still down there. I’ll probably make something sooner or later. Might focus more on dance.”

Jimin smiled, “Yay! I missed my dance partner.” He looked around and his smile fell. “It feels so empty without the others.”

“A lot of them were assholes.”

“Still. Some of them were just led astray into asshole life, but they were good men.”

Hoseok scoffed, “An even better woman drowned, and they always bullied me. I feel no pity. Just sorta wished it had been more peaceful.”

This was a surprise coming from Hobi, the sunshine of the crew. The one that made everyone happy just with a short conversation and a smile. His two friends couldn’t understand how much he had been through in such a short period of time, and he didn’t try to explain. They just figured those guys had been meaner to him than they knew.

Captain Eumgyeong’s bass voice bellowed out, “A ROUND OF DRINKS FOR EVERYONE! Tonight we party in the name of beating death!”

Jaunty tunes played and Jimin got his friend to dance with him. Captain Eumgyeong bragged about them, gaining his own popularity. Drinks on drinks on drink were had and sobs turned into laughter and turned into drunken sobbing. Pretty girl and gorgeous boys and beautiful people of all sorts flirted with one another.

Right, they had to get new sailors. A small and scrawny boy about age 17 with a rabbit smile caught Jimin’s attention. He was a fisherman who had snuck into the bar with his friend Taehyung who had the idea in the first place since he was older.

One of the men working there as a chef seemed to have gained the favor of Cannonball and the Captain and was asked to come along. He said that he’d think about it since he wasn’t too appreciated here. A guy named Namjoon had come in and was known as the local tinker. He was always making new things, and and old friend of Yoongi. They caught up and was invited to join the voyage.

Hoseok was feeling much better, but he still decided to take a step outside and get some fresh air since it smelled pretty rank in there. As he started on his walk, he thought he saw (Y/N) again. He couldn’t help but run after her through the cobblestone streets. Around all the corners, he followed the slight glow that trailed behind her.

She stopped in front of the sea and waited for him, a red glow from a local party contrasting the natural blue of the night. It was her. It was definitely her.

“It really is you.”

“Hi, Hobi.”

“A lot of men died.”

“Wasn’t my decision. They were bad ones anyways.”

He nodded. She wasn’t wrong. In the pale moonlight, he scales twinkled.

“You’re not human, are you?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“You’re a mermaid.”

“A sister of the sea. Yes.”

“How?”

She held his hands and put her forehead against his.

This Captain had been her lover since they were teenagers. He trusted her with everything he had. Most of her men did, too. Anyone who dare challenge him was killed or threatened. You were the love of his life.

“We sail together, or we drown together my dear. I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without you in life or death.” He kissed you while sailing under the precious full moon.

Then a horrible storm approached and they turned on you and the other women that resided on the ship. It was just a rumor that the sea gave bad luck to ships with female passengers, but it was one that her lover believed after they rescued flailing sailors.

Still, he stood there, feather in his hat, patch on his eye and said it wasn’t his fault the sea demanded her as a sacrifice. What he meant was that it wasn’t your fault he loved the sea more than you. He wanted to keep his men and his ship more than he wanted you. So the man who had spread the poison jabbed his sword at the women.

“I always thought that we’d drown together my love.”

He looked away and the women decided anything was better than to be where they were now. They welcomed the icy embrace of the unforgiving ocean. He would kill them swift if he really wanted them. Instead, they were held in warmth and untied as they died and their lungs filled with the sea’s essence.

Instead of complete death, the ocean was calm this far down and kissed them awake. Their legs stayed bound, but they became something more than legs as the rope was taken away by an invisible presence. They could breath now. You could breathe now. The ocean was a part of you, and you were a part of it.

“Maybe we won’t drown together, but you surely will, my so-called love.”

Hoseok gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her eyes had an iridescent shine to them as well, “I really do like you. My past is just that. I want my future to be with you. Will you join me?”

Again, he refused. I like you too, but I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

She furrowed his brows, “I can only ask you this once more before we can never be together again.”

“Then don’t ask again. I don’t belong in the sea, (Y/N). I belong on it.”

She smiled sadly and swallowed, “If that’s what you believe, then I shall not ask again. See you soon, Hoseok.”

And she left to swim in the sea, leaving behind footprints that glowed blue in the night time sand.

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rayanyprocrastinates · 6 years

Text

Breaking Writers Block: 7-KidLaw AU- Isolated Passion

"Oh, another one."

A soft voice, rough from disuse, had him whirling around.

"What do you mean by that?" he had no memories of where he was, or more importantly who he was.

"You. You're a special gift from Kid. That's his marking there on your chest." the graceful hand lifted and pointed at the symbol on the chest of his boiler suit. It was a smiling circle surrounded by several protrusions.

"Who's Kid?" was the only question that came to mind.

The cloaked man in front of him gave a gentle smile. "He is the Creator, Life himself. Kid always enjoys tinkering around with his creations, finding various ways to make them each unique. The ones he makes especially with me in mind bare his marking."

"Then who are you?"

The gentle smile grew and took on a more darker look.

"I'm Death, but you can call me Law." the same hand from earlier easily grasped onto his and he was promptly dragged in an undisclosed direction. "Come, I'll introduce you to the others. They'll be overjoyed to find out there's a new member."

•~•~•

They met only once, back when they were first created.

They were the last creations of their predecessors, the Life and Death from before the Reset.

But now was the emergence of a new time, a new vision.

The two were told only of their names and roles before their elders dispersed into the last wind from an old era.

The new Life was named Kid.

His job was to create everything and anything of his heart's desire but was allowed only three Helpers of his own design to aid him.

The new Death was named Law.

His job was to collect the creations once their time was up and send them back to Kid for Recycling. However, this he was to do alone. Unlike Kid, Law did not have the power to create. Instead he was gifted the power to harvest.

As a result of their conflicting domains, the two were to never meet again. Fated to an eternity of creating and harvesting, a never ending cycle in necessary isolation.

But while Law carried out his assigned duties indifferently, Kid couldn't help but be distracted. His only Other was to be alone, Law's eternal existence to be spent in solitude while he was able to have Helpers. It simply was not acceptable.

For centuries Kid was distracted by side projects, exploring small possibilities and loop home, desperate to find a way around Law's forced solitude.

Then one day, he did.

It wasn't like his usual creations. Instead of being bare, this one had pure white fur for covering, nor did it share any human traits.

Aside from one that is.

After the last few finishing touches, Kid sent it off to it's new companion, a glee-filled grin stretching his face painfully wide.

He finally did it.

•~•~•

Law was making his usual rounds when he found the First.

It's call was different from anything that he's ever Harvested before, that's what initially grabbed his attention.

Far to the north, that's where he tracked it, to the coldest place that even Kid's creations didn't yet dare to explore.

At first he couldn't see anything, dark brows furrowed in confusion. He had never been wrong before, but then he saw movement amongst the pure white.

It was a new creation, seems to be another animal this time. Kid surely lived up to his name as Creator with his endless imagination.

The beast slowly approached him, nose sniffing curiously at his out stretched hand.

"What a splendid creature, such a shame he need to be Recycled." Law spoke more to himself than anything, hence why he was surprised when he received an answer.

"I'm sorry."

For the first time since he was created Law stumbled back in pure shock. Did this creature just talk?

•~•~•

Even after days and weeks and months of trying to Recycle the bizarre talking creature, Law gave up. Bepo- he later named him, refusing to continue to refer to him as creature- stayed by his side, accompanying throughout his duties.

The new Death was perplexed, how was he to do his job if he was unable to follow through. Was there something wrong with his powers?

An uncomfortable sensation settled in the pit of his stomach.

Was he deffective? Would he be replaced if he wasn't able to Harvest the bear?

It was another dozen or so decades later when he faced the abnormality again.

By this point Bepo had become a close ally and friend (something Law had never dreamed of having), they knew everything about each other yet the only thing that remained a mystery was the strange symbol that marked the bear's chest. A smiling face surrounded by several T-shaped protrusions. A foreign symbol Law had a nagging feeling he'd seen before, if he were able to have them he'd say it was in a dream.

After wandering out to another routine Harvesting, Law stood in a full out gape.

Marking the chest of the confused man in front of him was the very same symbol that marred Bepo's fur.

Could it be? Was this another entity that would be unable to return to their creator?

The man had no memories of his life, which was bizarre because that was one of Law's duties- to reset the Creations for proper Recycling- he had never had one come to him as a blank slate before except for Bepo.

Law soon came to the conclusion that it must've been something in the way Kid was making them. He himself was unable to prevent someone's end and with no other like him, Kid was the only other explanation.

A soft smile touched his lips as the new Marked was warmly welcomed by Bepo a few feet away.

"Thanks, Eustass-ya."

•~•~•

But as it is said, all good things must come to an end.

The world was in a state of decay. Deaths happened at a faster rate than births did. Recycling became backed up, Law was left with no place to lead the people who were Harvested and was forced to simply let them roam around.

There was a shift happening in power.

A shift that was never supposed to occur.

With gritted teeth Law bit out a curse as he took in the rapidly deteriorating surroundings.

This was supposed to be theirs, their creations, their image, their world.

What was that fool up to?

•~•~•

Kid laid hunched against the work table he spent all his time lovingly creating over. His Helpers were off somewhere trying to salvage what they could of the situation. Desperately trying to keep their world from falling to pieces.

A cough rattled around in his chest, his energy long since depleted with the damaged Recycle system.

Despite his weak state Kid couldn't help but feel joy. Finally, his other was free and able to strive. To interact, to live, to feel.

Law.

Was the man fairing alright? Of course he hadn't seen his only other since the Beginning but he never had his Marked returned to him so he assumed they were a success.

But as his breaths came less and less, Kid couldn't help the inkling of doubt that blossomed. Perhaps they never made it in the first place, their existence burning up in the strenuous entry. Or maybe they simply weren't suitable for recycling at all.

Oh. But wait. It was all fine now. Law was able to be the dominant force, Death now being the primary power in the world they made together.

Kid's eyes blurred, this must be it. The time for a new Life, the next Creator.

Damn, there was so much more that he had wanted to do.

As his eyes started to slide shut he felt the ghost of a hand brush against his cheek.

"To think after so many centuries of waiting, that this is how we'd finally meet again." Startled by the new voice- he hasn't heard a new voice since he made the last of his Helpers- Kid's eyes shot open. "The universe is truly cruel."

"Law." He breathed, unable to accept that his other was truly there. Looking so different yet just the same as he was when they first met.

"You fool, Death was never meant to have such power."

Cold pale hands cupped his own, bringing them to hover between the two.

At first nothing happened then suddenly a black whisp of smoke emerged in the cupped air. Violently twisting and turning before settling to a puddle in their joined hands.

"Take it, it's rightfully yours." Pale hands patiently guided their clasped ones to his trembling lips.

"I-I can't. I did this for you!" Kid whispered brokenly, too weak to stop the advancement.

"I know." Sorrow filled gray eyes locked with his as unwavering hands forcefully tipped the golden liquid past his lips. "That's what makes this hurt the most."

•~•~•

What? I'm writing random nonsensical AUs instead of doing my history homework thats due in 3 hours that I haven't even started on yet? Psssh noooo. How could you even suggest such a thing? I'm insulted. My first KidLaw fic to add to my writer's block pile. This was gonna be it's own full story but it got mashed into a one shot when a new plot bunny borrowed in my skull. Hope it was at least intriguing and that you liked it~!

#kidlaw #eustass kid #trafalgar law #trafalgar water d law #one piece #original writing #mine #breaking writers block 7

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thatgirlkennedie · 6 years

Text

Title: Hidden in the Dark

Rating: (Hard) T

Warnings: Implied self-harm, implied suicide thoughts, Prompto being sad

Notes: this is a little late but here’s some angst for Day4: Hurt/Comfort @promptis-fanweek

AO3

It wasn't a bad thing but it was weird for Noctis to receive a knock on his door at this hour. He was surprisingly still up for it be 2 am; Flipping through channels out of boredom, not expecting anyone over. He wouldn't put the doubt on it being Ignis since his advisor has done this before but also he had no reason for coming over. Ignis usually would at least let him know a bit beforehand if he was stopping by. Still, it's strange and now his door was being knocked on a little more frantically. He got up from his spot reluctantly and went to see what beheld him behind that door. He looked through the peephole first and well, it was dark and even with the front light on it was difficult to see except for the outline of what looked to be a man in a hoodie. He sighed; Worst come to worst he had his weapon on him. He slowly opened the door, leaving it slightly ajar before getting a full view of the person in front of him. “Prompto? What are you doing here?” And it's not meant to sound rude but really, it's not the usual time to hang out. Noctis wasn't mad at him at all, if anything, he was confused by this. Here stood his best friend who seemed… a little off from his normal self. “Ya know, just been walkin’ around, seeing the sights.” Noctis would have accepted this response if it wasn't two at night. Walking at night wasn't a bad thing to do, Insomnia was pretty safe, but Prompto’s behavior was skewed from his normality which was making the atmosphere a bit thinner. “Now what's the real reason why you're here?” Noctis spoke and it was supposed to sound like a lighthearted question but he saw the way Prompto cringe at the words. He then realized he still had the door cracked open so he opened it all the way but the blonde only stood there unmovable. “I… had to get some air. Being all cooped up all by yourself… can make you go crazy sometimes.” The laugh was a dead give away that something was wrong. It was too stale, too forced out to be genuine which had a pang of concern rise inside of Noctis. Soon though, Prompto took the invitation to go inside. Noctis watched him; Prompto’s movements seemed robotic like, almost stiff as he made his way and sat down on the couch. Okay, it's been about a week since they saw each other face to face. Partly from Noctis being busy with all the royal bullshit and Prompto well, the blonde claimed sicken some days and work other days which, if were true, made sense why hanging out would have been impossible. Also, they're just so used to being with each other every waking moment of the day and a week off felt like their dynamic had changed; Not good or bad but definitely something weird was going on. This was the quietest Prompto had ever been. Noctis figured he'd crack a joke by now but the blonde just sat there, head hanging low with no words leaving his mouth at all. Nothing more than a long sigh left him as he stayed silent which only made Noctis more worried. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Prompto, waiting for some form of conversation starting. When he got none, he let out a sigh of his own before speaking. “Hey, are you… okay?” And he could tell that the blonde wasn't okay. The question posed as a means for an explanation. “As okay as I'll ever get.” Prompto mumbled out almost too quiet to hear. “What do you mean by-” “I quit my job a couple weeks ago…” Prompto stated his voice barely above a whisper. Noctis looked at him with bewilderment. A couple of weeks ago? Why would Prompto lie to him about working so much in the past week? He's, again, not mad but there's some confusion that lingers. “...What?” That's all Noctis could respond with. “I've been… having a bad day, a bad week, a bad life… things just haven't been going my way lately.” “Prompto-” “I just feel… useless. I fuck things up too much and… I just had to get away.” Noctis couldn't believe what he was hearing. It's unlike Prompto to speak so morbidly in his speech. He's known Prompto for a few years now and not once had he witness him doing anything but quirk the side of his lips up in a bright smile or pure angelic laughter. This, this was backwards behavior and he's so taken aback by it. “Prompto, where is this all coming from? You are an awesome person and you're usually so happy and-” “It was a lie.” Prompto’s voice rose, some heat behind his words. “It's all been a lie, I'm a fucking lie!” He paused to take a breath, turning his head enough to look straight as Noctis. “I've done some… dumb things in the last week Noct… I'm not proud of those things…” All Noctis could do was stare and listen in disbelief. He could only imagine the things Prompto got into and he really didn't want to believe it. “You gotta tell me. What have you've been doing this week Prompto?” He's so damn worried now and he just doesn't know the right thing to do in this situation. “You don't wanna know-” “I do. Let me help you with this. Please?” Noctis had grown desperate for some form of response that could bring light to this situation. Prompto was more than just sad; It's the sadness that Noctis hadn't dealt with since his younger days. That feeling of worthlessness and the dread of doing things or; He's gone through it, not as severely, but enough to pinpoint the symptoms. He had his own rough days sometimes but he could bare them for the most part especially when Prompto was there to help him too; Spontaneous recovery was a blessing in itself. He's not even sure how long Prompto had been like this or if he could even make such a recovery. “Did you ever feel a tug to your magic?” Prompto asked and it's an odd question. In true, Noctis never paid that much attention to when his friends used their weapons. If one of them was constantly using their weapons, then yes he would feel something but he hasn't in a while. “No, why?” He had a feeling he knew why Prompto asked this question but he doesn't want to admit it to himself; He doesn't want to speak the inevitable. “I-I…” The sigh that left him was more shaky, almost on the verge of tears.”I keep… summoning my gun and just… I'm such a fucking coward. I can't do it because I'm too weak but I… don't know what else I can do…” Hearing Prompto so devout of hope was heart-shattering. Noctis would have never guessed Prompto was going through so much; Even more so how well he hid it for so long. “Prompto, what are you saying?” And Noctis is caught between wanting to know and not knowing. If he knew exactly what was happening (and he could take a wild guess), he'd go straight to helping him. Not knowing would only stall the inevitable which wasn't a good thing to do; Not when Prompto is so deep into this mood. “I… I don't know if I can live like this anymore Noct. Life only served to kick me in the ass all the time and I'm not happy, I'm never happy. Happiness is so rare that I don't know the meaning of it anymore…” Hearing that just made Noctis’s stomach drop. He's only ever seen Prompto happy and seeing him like this was still so baffling. It's painful seeing and listening to how hurt Prompto was. It's been happening right under his nose with nary an indication of Prompto’s condition and he felt almost like a bad friend for not seeing the signs but even then Prompto never showed an inkling of his mentality faltering. “W-when are you happy?” It's a pretty broad question. Prompto had even just said the rarity of happiness was so high he doesn't even know what it was. More so, just the idea of Prompto even thinking about taking his life was something he'd never think Prompto would want to do. It's too surreal, too real, and Noctis wanted to do everything in his power to make sure Prompto would progressively get better. Prompto didn't respond to his question for some time. Noctis could see tears welling up in those tired blue eyes, slowly falling down his face as he stayed silent for a bit. “You're gonna think I'm crazy dude.” Prompto’s voice was unsteady, a spike of laughter began to emit from him. It's unlike anything Noctis has seen; Psychosis at its peak. “Try me.” “It's you!” Prompto had gripped onto Noctis’s arms. “You make me happy!” The gesture surprised Noctis but he let it happen; The words surprised him even more. Prompto had leaned into him, crying into his chest with broken sobs. Noctis glanced down a bit to exposes wrist, seeing faded scars and it's so telling what internal pain Prompto had been through. He held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go until Prompto could somehow instantly feel happy again but he knew it wasn't that easy. “You… you make me happy too.” And Prompto only cried harder into his chest. Sadness was definitely not an emotion that Noctis ever thought Prompto could muster up but here he was now, devote of hope, lost in a dark despair that Noctis knew was difficult to get out of. “Wh-why?” Prompto sat up a bit, clinging to Noctis’s shirt. “I'm… I’m nothing but a fuck up Noct. You don't need me, no one needs me . I'm a fucking waste of space that should have offed myself forever ago.” He went to pull away but Noctis pulled him back in for a hug. The prince held him once more; Prompto had gone rigid, completely unmoving. “You make me happy for being who you are. You've been through a lot and I want to do everything I can to help you not think less of yourself. I'll get you all the help in the world if it meant you'd be happy, truly happy.” Noctis voice was low, close to Prompto’s ear for sincerity. He felt Prompto shudder and the cries were back; Sounding a little less sorrowful, a bit more… gentle. “Noct… I'm scared, Noct…” His sobs were quiet and Noctis only held onto him tighter. “I know and it's okay, I'm here for you.” A yawn soon escaped him after he spoke. Prompto had sat up, wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks. “It's pretty late… I should go-” “You can stay here with me for tonight.” Noctis interjected. It's not because of how late it is but Prompto’s stability was too unstable for Noctis to let him walk away; He's doesn't think Prompto would do anything but just to be safe. Prompto doesn't even try to argue it and just nodded his head. They retired to Noctis’s room soon enough. Prompto stood in the doorway when Noctis entered, clearly unsure of entering. “I-I can stay in the guestroom, ya know…” “Yeah but… I just wanna watch over you is all.” And Prompto let out a sigh, acknowledging that it may be for the best if he did stay with him. Noctis changed and gave Prompto some clothes to change into. He saw the hesitation, a look of fear and uncertainty yet Prompto took them cautiously and went to change in the bathroom. Prompto returned, sheepishly walking in and Noctis really looked at Prompto. He looked thinner almost sickly like and those scars were more prominent running up his forearm. Those violet-blue eyes once sparkled now are all hollow, empty with despair. Noctis had gestured him to the bed and Prompto came slowly, sitting down on the sheets and sighing. “I'm sorry for all this…” “Nothing to be sorry for.” Noctis let out a sight too before getting into his bed. Prompto followed suit, making sure he was strictly on one side of the bed as far away as Noctis as possible. It's silent with only breathing being heard between them. Noctis had slowly scooted closer to Prompto as the time passed by. He figured Prompto was asleep but once he gently wrapped his arm around Prompto’s midsection, the blonde stiffened up. Noctis retracted quickly but Prompto scooted back into him to his surprise. This was comfortable; Prompto securely in his arms from any self-inflicting danger. This whole night had opened Noctis’s eyes to who Prompto really was and he was going to do everything in his power to ensure his safety and wellbeing. He wasn't gonna lose the person he cared so much for.

#Promptis #ffxv #Promptis Week 2018 #sad bois #give prom a hug

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